


Victim of a Bet

by Biza



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AU, Adult Language, Graphic Sex, Humor, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-22
Updated: 2017-01-22
Packaged: 2018-09-19 06:10:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9421991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Biza/pseuds/Biza
Summary: Harry is the victim of a bet, but he attempts to turn the situation to his advantage.





	

“Who do you think their victim is?”

Draco cast a sidelong glance at Blaise sitting beside him before swiftly returning his gaze to the Weasley twins at the far end of the table. “Harry’s the only one not here.”

“Surely you don’t think they’d prank Harry? They worship him.”

Repressing the urge to sneer at his best friend, Draco continued to keep an eye on the twins. Whether they worshiped Harry or not, Draco was still convinced Harry was their current prey. Granger and Weasley were eyeing the twins suspiciously as well, not trusting the anticipatory smiles Fred and George didn’t even attempt to suppress.

One would think that being holed up in a house like Grimmauld Place would be boring after a while – and it could be at times, Draco thought – but considering it had essentially turned into a refuge of Slytherin and Gryffindor young adults, there was rarely a lack of some sort of conflict to keep one entertained.

He just hoped the twins hadn’t done too much damage, because watching Harry had actually become his favourite form of entertainment. He’d had quite the epiphany when he’d caught Harry practicing some duelling moves wearing only a pair of low slung denims. The wide leather belt hadn’t been doing much to keep them up on his hips and the sheen of sweat on his skin had drawn attention to the dips and hollows of his hipbones and toned abs.

Harry was all grown up.

Draco didn’t particularly care that Harry was still a Gryffindor git; he just wanted in those trousers. Not that he’d actually made a move, because the rational part of his mind recognized that it was, unfortunately, still Harry. After a year of being forced to live and work together, they got along all right, but Harry was still the bloody hero and he was still the Death Eater scum.

He rubbed his forearm absently against his thigh, feeling the brand that would forever mark him as inferior in Harry’s eyes. As much as he’d like to blame Harry or Snape or his parents, he’d finally come to terms with the fact that it was his own bloody fault. It was a foolish mistake that he would have to live with.

“We haven’t done anything!”

The loud protest drew his attention back to the other end of the table, and he realized he’d been momentarily lax about keeping an eye on the enemy. Not that they were really the enemy, but in this house, they were close enough. Everyone but Harry was wary of drawing their attention.

“You’ve done _something_ ,” Ginny retorted, Neville nodding fervently in agreement by her side. “How could you prank Harry?”

“We haven’t pranked him,” Fred protested. “You know we wouldn’t.”

But he was still wearing the same anticipatory grin, which no one in the room trusted.

“Then why hasn’t he come down for breakfast yet?” Ron demanded.

George made a strong effort at an innocent expression. “Maybe he’s just taking his time this morning as he decides what to wear.”

He made the mistake of looking at his twin and the two of them broke out into loud guffaws, completely unable to contain themselves. It wasn’t in the least reassuring, and Draco found himself half wishing that it was actually one of the days when some of the older members of the Order were around. Mrs. Weasley would have the twins under control in ten seconds flat.

Of course, then she’d give them all a list of chores two feet long and he quickly changed his mind, thankful the older adults had begun to trust them at Grimmauld Place on their own. He was eighteen, for Merlin’s sake, and didn’t need a babysitter. Though, eyeing the twins warily, he thought that maybe they did.

Everyone’s attention was drawn to the kitchen door as it began to open, expecting a large canary or something far worse to be on the other side. Jaws dropped as Harry – and it was definitely Harry – sauntered into the room as if it were any normal morning. They stared as he crossed the room and filled a plate of food at the stove before seating himself between Draco and Blaise, asking Blaise to scoot over to give him some room. The space was easily granted as they backed away automatically in shock.

Hermione was the first to find her voice, but it didn’t sound at all normal. Instead it was a shrill squeak. “Where are your clothes?”

“In my room,” Harry answered, reaching across Draco for a jug of orange juice. Draco didn’t move.

“Why aren’t you _wearing_ them?”

“Because of a bet,” Harry said as nonchalantly as possible, which was bloody good, in Draco’s humble opinion. There was a faint tinge of red across the top of Harry’s cheekbones, but really, he was holding himself together quite well considering the circumstances.

Draco could admit to himself that _he_ wasn’t holding himself together well. He was surprised that he was even capable of any coherent thoughts. Harry was naked. Right beside him. All he had to do was look down and . . .

He jerked his eyes back to his plate.

. . . and he’d seen Harry’s cock resting in a nest of black curls. It wasn’t hard, but it was full and heavy. Unlike Draco’s own cock – he shifted restlessly – which was now rock solid and attempting to free itself from his trousers.

He didn’t think he’d ever been at a complete loss for words before, but this situation was beyond his control. Luckily, no one else seemed to know what to say either. The entire group had taken to a diligent study of their plates, not wanting to look anywhere even remotely in Harry’s direction.

Except the twins. Darting his eyes surreptitiously around the table, he discovered that they were both watching him, with the same bloody grins on their faces. He found enough strength to sneer at them before returning his attention to his plate.

It was Pansy who broke the growing tension.

“So, Harry,” she said conversationally. “You’re looking good today.”

She was rewarded with a lopsided grin from Harry, which made Draco’s gut clench unexpectedly. It made Pansy giggle, however, and soon everyone was laughing except for him. Even if much of it was still rather nervous laughter, he thought they were all barmy. This was not a laughing matter.

Harry was naked and right there and Draco wanted to have him for breakfast.

“Am I disturbing you, Malfoy?”

Draco met his gaze, reminding himself to keep looking into those green eyes, as dangerous as it might be, rather than glance down. “Of course not,” he said, as flippantly as he could manage. “You’ve got nothing that interests me.”

Harry’s eyebrows lifted. “Right.”

Feeling rather desperate, Draco sneered and returned his attention to his unappetizing eggs. Harry couldn’t possibly _know_ , could he? He was notoriously clueless and unless someone stripped naked in front of him, he wouldn’t notice that they were interested in him.

Frowning, Draco wondered why he suddenly felt like he was missing something, but he swiftly shook off that disturbing feeling. He had much bigger things to worry about. Stealing another glance at the twins, he worried that this was actually a prank against him, not Harry.

He knew they’d caught him staring at Harry more than once over recent weeks, but he’d become complacent when they hadn’t immediately said anything. There’d been no taunting and, as far as he knew, they hadn’t told anyone. Had they deliberately set up a bet with these kinds of terms just to taunt Draco? It certainly wouldn’t go against their morals to humiliate Harry and Draco at the same time.

“So, what was the bet?” Ron asked.

“And why were you stupid enough to make a bet with Fred and George?” Ginny added.

Harry shrugged carelessly, drawing attention to his chest. Draco looked away. “You know me, can’t resist a challenge.”

“But what was the challenge?” Ron asked.

“Er, I don’t really want to say. It’s embarrassing.”

“You’re stark naked in the kitchen. What could be more embarrassing than that?”

“I’m used to people staring at me.”

Whether they wanted to look at Harry or not, they all turned to gape at him again.

“Not when you’re naked,” Hermione said. “It’s _not_ the same thing.”

“It is if you tell yourself it is.”

“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Thank you, Hermione,” Harry said sarcastically before sucking a bit of cantaloupe into his mouth. Odd. Draco had never wished to be a piece of fruit before.

“Harry,” she spoke slowly and carefully in an effort to make him understand. “You. Are. Naked.”

“I’m aware of that. It’s a bit cold in here, don’t you think?”

No, actually I don’t, Draco thought helplessly. It was entirely too hot for comfort, but maybe it was the lack of warm clothing that was keeping Harry’s blush under control. He did a poor job of sneaking a sidelong glance at the body beside him. Harry didn’t _look_ cold.

“What Hermione’s trying to say,” said Ginny, “is that it’s not natural to run about in the nude. I have to agree with Pansy, though. You look good.”

“Ginny!” Hermione exclaimed. “What about Neville?”

The two were supposedly going together, and Draco narrowed his eyes at the red-headed girl. She wasn’t supposed to be looking at _his_ Harry, especially with a boyfriend of her own. He really had become too complacent if he hadn’t been considering her as dangerous as she was in the past. She had most everyone fooled, believing she was a noble Gryffindor, but not him. He knew better.

Neville, on the other hand, couldn’t possible be anything but noble and trusting and all those other sickening Gryffindor traits. He was blushing furiously, but the smile he directed at Ginny was still warm and fondly affectionate. The fool trusted her, for some idiotic reason, even when she was obviously drooling over Harry.

Draco watched in disgust as she gave him a light peck on the lips before answering Hermione. “Neville knows he has nothing to worry about.”

“But you’ve been ogling Harry,” Hermione hissed.

“So have you,” Ginny retorted. “Just because we have boyfriends doesn’t mean we’re blind.”

Ron looked startled, turning wide eyes to his girlfriend. “You’ve been ogling Harry?”

“No! Of course not!”

Narrowing his eyes, Ron didn’t look like he believed her, but then he grinned. “That’s all right. You know I’m hung better than Harry anyway.”

“Hey!” Harry protested, but he was laughing as Hermione buried her bright red face in her hands.

“Is he really?” Pansy asked Hermione curiously, eyeing Ron with a hint of new respect.

Harry laughed even harder, seemingly unembarrassed by the topic. It sounded suspiciously like a long-running joke. Maybe they spent all those years in their dorm making comparisons. It was a disturbing and rather nauseating thought, but considering the jokes that followed, it appeared to be true.

Draco shuddered. Gryffindors. He’d never understand them.

“So,” Blaise said, ignoring Pansy’s pleas to trade places with him. “How long are you planning to go around the house like this?”

“All week,” Fred piped up before Harry could answer.

Harry shook his head, his fringe flopping into his eyes and Draco wondered how the git could see between his hair and glasses getting in his way. Somebody might notice, however, if he tried to snitch them from Harry’s face. Maybe he could hide them in the middle of the night? Then his brain caught up with what Blaise and Fred were suggesting.

“All week?” he said, his voice unfortunately high-pitched and swinging everyone’s attention to him. Regrettably, he couldn’t stop himself from attempting to clarify. “You’re not going to wear clothes all week?”

Inexplicably, Harry shot a smug grin in the direction of the twins. “No, I only agreed to run about starkers for the day.”

Draco zoned out on an image of Harry literally running about naked, his dick flopping in the breeze until it was hard and stiff and too painful to run. His skin shining with sweat and his hair damp, looking incredibly sexy and ready to fuck whatever moved. Which, of course, Draco was going to conveniently make himself available.

“Draco? You all right?”

Blinking back into focus, Draco realized that those damnable green eyes were looking at him with a hint of concern. The humiliating thing was that they revealed more amusement than worry.

Draco hated him. “The thought of you running about like this all day is making me ill,” he said snidely.

“Right,” Harry said.

Draco hated him with a burning passion that didn’t ease the tension in his trousers in the slightest. Stabbing viciously at his eggs, he began plotting his revenge against the twins, sure that their purpose was to humiliate him. He wouldn’t give them the satisfaction; he’d show them that he had the self-control to ignore Harry, even in this delectable state.

It would help if he could leave the room, but that was impossible without revealing far more than he wanted to. Which was ironic, since he was fully clothed. Never in his life was he more thankful for the arrival of the _Daily Prophet_. He buried himself in the newspaper and devoured every word, morbidly hoping that there was news of recent attacks to help distract him and curb his arousal.

Gradually everyone disappeared from the kitchen and Draco felt like he could breathe again. The Gryffindors, minus Fred and George, had elected to go spend the day at the Burrow, unwilling to subject themselves to Harry’s odd behaviour any longer than possible. The twins regrettably said they were required at their shop. Pansy had dragged Blaise off to do Merlin knew what, and Draco did _not_ want to know.

His eyes had followed Harry’s arse out of the room, but he honestly couldn’t remember if Harry had said where he was going or not. Wouldn’t he be inclined to spend the day in his room? He’d subjected himself to his humiliation in front of everyone, to the twins’ apparent satisfaction, so it made sense that he’d stay away from people as much as possible while they were gone.

Deciding the _Daily Prophet_ had outlived its usefulness, Draco trudged up to the drawing room, hoping he could find something to distract him from images of naked Harry. He considered detouring to his room for a nice wank, but since he’d managed to get his erection under control finally, he thought he’d save the wanking for later. Besides, he was fairly certain Blaise and Pansy were in the room he shared with Blaise, and he did not want to know or see what they were doing.

Randomly selecting a book, he settled into a chair near the fireplace and began flipping through it, his eyes not focusing on a single word. Would it really be such a bad idea to make a move on Harry? He wasn’t given a chance to ponder the question when Harry himself entered the room, mumbling a vague hello as he traipsed to the bookshelves.

With no one to observe him, Draco shamelessly checked out Harry’s backside while Harry browsed. He was lean and firm, without an ounce of extra fat on his body. Trim muscles and tight all over and Draco furtively checked for drool as he realized he’d been staring for several minutes.

“What _are_ you looking for?” he drawled, congratulating himself on his steady voice.

“Fred and George told me they hid some porn in here, but so far I can’t find it.”

Draco choked and Harry shot a wicked grin over his shoulder.

“Why would they hide something like that in here?”

“So Mrs. Weasley wouldn’t find it in their room, of course.”

“Of course,” Draco said weakly, thinking that it was probably not a bad idea.

Harry resumed his search and Draco resumed his staring, deciding that as soon as Harry left, he was going to go to his own room for that wank he’d promised himself.

“Ah ha!” Harry shouted, causing Draco to jump before glaring at Harry.

Harry wasn’t paying any attention and didn’t notice the glare, too busy mumbling to himself as he carried his find over and took the seat opposite Draco. “Sixth shelf, fourth book, not fourth shelf, sixth book like they tried to tell me.”

“You’re not going to stay in _here_ to look at that are you?”

“Why not?”

The expression on Harry’s face actually looked innocent, which seemed like an impossibility considering what they were discussing and Harry’s state of undress. Draco gaped unbecomingly, searching his mind frantically for something to say.

“You don’t have something against gay porn, do you?”

Draco choked. Harry was planning to look at _gay_ porn? That changed everything. And it changed nothing.

“Er, no,” Draco said. “Go right ahead.”

“Thanks,” Harry said, beaming Draco a bright smile before settling himself comfortably to read his book. At least, it looked like a book, but Draco suspected that it was actually a magazine with a transfigured cover. It was a common tactic used at Hogwarts.

Draco pretended to look at his own book while Harry turned sideways to practically lay down in the chair, his head resting on one arm of the squashy chair with his legs thrown over the other. Was he _deliberately_ trying to put himself on display? Draco stared unseeingly at the pages of his book, noting that Harry did often sit that way, but that was when he was wearing clothes.

Swallowing hard, Draco stole another look. With elbow propped up on the chair seat, that arm holding up the book, Harry’s face was hidden. A sweeping glance revealed that not much else was kept from Draco’s view.

It was a ploy. It simply had to be. Harry was actively trying to make Draco mental. Looks had to be deceiving and Harry couldn’t be nearly as relaxed as he was pretending to be. Maybe. Draco wasn’t sure anymore. His brain was turning sluggish with the unimpeded view of Harry’s body.

Repressing a whimper, Draco shifted to hold his own book so that his face was hidden from Harry while still allowing him a view. This was absolute torture, but there was no way in bloody hell that he was leaving now.

Harry was gay. Harry was looking at gay porn. Draco’s eyes widened. Harry was getting hard while looking at gay porn. Draco didn’t think he was going to be able to walk out of the room with his sanity intact.

He watched as Harry’s free hand, which had been resting on his chest, drifted a little lower to rest against his abs. His cock twitched, as if anticipating a touch, but his hand didn’t move again. His forefinger did, though; it traced small circles around his belly button. 

Technically there wasn’t anything sexual about the action, but it held Draco mesmerized for long seconds. The hand lifted out of sight to turn the page before coming down again to rest against his thigh. This time it was his thumb that absently stroked back and forth along his inner thigh.

Surely Harry wouldn’t wank in front of him. Would he? Admittedly, the boys wanked all the time in the dorms back at Hogwarts, but they usually did it behind closed curtains, even if they could still hear everything. The others had walked in on him more than once, and it hadn’t stopped him from finishing, but this was not the same type of forced living quarters. Harry had his own room to go to. In fact, he was the only one in the house who had a bedroom to himself.

Draco was driving himself mad trying to figure out why Harry was doing this. It wasn’t proper. It wasn’t remotely Gryffindorish. Although . . . it was reckless and foolish, so maybe it wasn’t so out of character.

They must have been sitting like that for an hour when a shout sounded in the hallway that had Draco jumping out of his skin. He tore his guilty gaze away from Harry and glared at the doorway where Pansy appeared, with Blaise right behind her.

“There you are,” she said.

“What do you want?” He hadn’t exactly meant to snarl at her, but three sets of eyebrows rose as they gazed at him.

“Since you are in such a _pleasant_ mood, Blaise and I decided to go see what’s happening at the Burrow.”

“Then go. I don’t want your company anyway.”

“I didn’t think you did,” she said airily. “Bye, Harry.” She and Blaise disappeared as quickly as they’d arrived, leaving Draco feeling even more flustered than before.

Harry had casually lowered the book to cover his groin while the others had been present, but now, after he sent Draco a rather wicked smirk, he went back to reading. Or looking at pictures. Or whatever he was doing that was driving Draco insane.

“I think I’m going to go to my room,” Draco said, suddenly conscious of the fact that they were entirely alone in the house and anything could happen. He did not trust his control much longer.

“Am I making you uncomfortable?” Harry asked, lowering the book enough to look at him over the top.

“Of course not. I’ve just got things to do. In my room.” He couldn’t move, though, or Harry would see his own erection tenting his trousers, and he had no excuse. Harry was the one looking at porn, not him. “Or maybe I’ll stay here a little longer.”

“Right.” Harry went back to his book.

Draco suppressed a groan, hating himself for acting like an idiot. It was all Harry’s fault. If it had been anyone else sitting in that chair, Draco would have been all over them before they’d managed to open the book. This is Harry Potter, he reminded himself, banging his head against the back of the chair.

Golden Boy, Chosen One, Saviour of the Wizarding World. Draco continued to run through a list of every title, both positive and negative, he could think of for Harry, but it wasn’t helping. It was still _Harry_ sprawled naked in the chair across from him.

Draco’s attention was drawn by Harry’s hand moving again. A shifting of hips, an adjustment of balls to rest more comfortably between his thighs, a gentle squeeze. The action was probably entirely unconscious on Harry’s part, but Draco had to bite his tongue to keep from groaning.

He desperately wanted to touch. He desperately wanted to _taste_. The tip of Harry’s prick was wet. He could see it, glistening temptingly. Licking his lips, he wondered exactly what kind of pictures Harry was looking at. Harry’s hand was drifting closer and closer to his cock as the minutes ticked by.

Draco watched, barely blinking as he waited. He wasn’t disappointed when Harry moaned as he closed a fist around his cock. Still, Draco didn’t move. He didn’t dare, but oh how he wanted to. He wanted to bend over and tell Harry to shove that cock up his arse until he screamed. He’d never been this turned on his life and his prick throbbed, painfully trapped in his trousers.

Harry spread his legs, dropping one foot to the floor and Draco snapped. He couldn’t just sit and watch this, no matter how much he might want to. He tossed the book he hadn’t read a word of onto a side table, the noise causing Harry to look at Draco over the top of his own book.

The heavy-lidded, lust-filled gaze was Draco’s undoing and he hoped that Harry didn’t curse him as he crossed the few feet separating them and took Harry’s book from him. He barely glanced at it as he went to toss it aside, but then did a double take.

“What’s in the book?”

Harry shrugged, though the intensity of his eyes didn’t lessen. “Defence curses.”

“I thought you were looking at gay porn.”

“I lied.”

“But you . . . you’re . . .” Draco waved in the general direction of Harry’s groin, utterly flabbergasted by this turn of events.

“Yes, I’m hard.” The lust was suddenly tinged with amusement and damned if Draco didn’t find it sexy.

“ _Why_ are you hard?”

He hadn’t thought Harry was capable of a coy smirk. “I was getting off on knowing you were watching me.”

Draco dropped to his knees beside Harry, making a mental note to stash some actual porn in the room, admiring Harry’s methods. Still, Harry made no actual move towards him. He frowned briefly, wondering why, but then decided that he wasn’t likely to be rejected at this point and finally leaned down to kiss Harry.

The second their lips touched, Harry took over, pushing Draco backwards onto the floor and landing on top of him as if he’d been simply waiting for this moment. Maybe he had, Draco thought, feeling momentarily stunned. He hadn’t expected this, but there was no denying that it felt good.

The arousal that had diminished briefly flared brightly as Harry rested his weight on top of him and devoured his mouth eagerly. The desire that they had allowed to build for hours threatened to overwhelm them. Draco could feel it in Harry’s frantic kisses and he understood because he felt the same way.

“Have you. Ever. Fucked someone. Before?” His question was broken up by wet, sloppy kisses.

“Yes,” Harry answered, before stabbing his tongue in Draco’s ear.

Shivering at that sensation, Draco pushed aside the flash of jealousy. It wasn’t like he was a virgin, either. One of the older Slytherins had happily relieved him of that burden during his fifth year, but he hadn’t expected it of Harry.

Harry must’ve felt some of his sudden tension, because he pulled back to look at Draco. “Have you?”

“Yes.”

He recognized the jealousy in Harry’s eyes, but it swiftly disappeared. “Good, then you’re experienced. You want to top or bottom?”

Just like that, the subject was dropped? Draco could really learn to like this unexplored side of Harry. He summoned up enough courage to admit, “I want you to fuck me.”

Harry’s eyes visibly darkened as he inhaled sharply, his hips rocking against Draco. Gasping at the pleasurable friction, Draco tried to shove Harry away before he came right then. He was never going to last long enough to be fucked.

“Can I suck you?” Harry asked, already working to loosen Draco’s belt and fumbling with the fastenings because he was in such a hurry.

Draco nodded, sitting up enough to jerk his shirt over his head. Harry didn’t bother to completely remove the trousers, too eager to get at the prize inside. Folding back the trousers and pulling down the underpants, he released Draco’s cock from its fabric prison only to immediately engulf it in his mouth.

Crying out in shock and pleasure, Draco vaguely acknowledged that Harry was full of unexpected surprises. Not that he was complaining. All conscious thought fled as he felt the head of his cock hit the back of Harry’s throat. Twice more and he was coming, the stimulation too much after holding back for so long already that morning.

As he slowly came down from his sexual high, he opened his eyes to see Harry propped up on his elbow, lying next to him on the floor.

“You were supposed to fuck me.”

“I don’t think I can right now,” Harry said with a strained smile. “As much as I want to.”

Understanding that all too well, Draco repaid the favour. There would be time enough to fuck later. Hopefully. Shoving Harry onto his back, Draco decided not to tease, since Harry hadn’t done it to him. There’d already been enough teasing that morning. Taking Harry’s prick into his mouth, he moaned along with Harry as he savoured the salty burst of flavour on his tongue.

Harry’s hands rhythmically kneaded Draco’s scalp, matching the pace Draco had set. Within a minute, though, he was clenching two fistfuls of hair as he came forcefully down Draco’s throat. Draco swallowed eagerly, continuing to suck for a few moments before reluctantly pulling away.

As he waited for Harry to recover, he sat with his back against the chair, wondering at what had just happened. And what was going to happen next. He really did hope that they would be fucking soon, but now that the edge had been taken off, reality was attempting to reassert itself.

“You all right?” Harry asked, sounding wary and a bit nervous now.

Draco shrugged half-heartedly. Considering he was the one still wearing trousers – though they were still unfastened and hanging loosely about his hips – he felt exposed and a bit self-conscious. “What was this?”

“Sex.”

“Thank you for that brilliant observation,” Draco drawled sarcastically, rolling his eyes widely.

“Erm, just the beginning?” Harry suggested. “Because I want to have a lot more sex with you. I haven’t got to fuck you yet.”

Draco frowned at him curiously. “Did you plan all of this? Was this just some weird kind of seduction?”

Harry’s resulting smile was rather adorably sheepish, a direct contrast to his earlier dominance. It was an intriguing combination. 

“Mostly, yeah.”

Draco thought about the events of the morning. He’d never suspected Harry of such devious methods, but as a Slytherin, he respected them. It had actually started, though, with a bet.

“What was the bet you lost?”

After everything they’d just been doing, and after exposing himself in front of all his friends, _now_ Harry blushed, but it didn’t detract from the smug grin. “I didn’t lose.”

“You _didn’t_ lose? But they forced you to go to breakfast without any clothes on.”

“Er, that was my choice. And I won.”

Draco stared at Harry uncomprehendingly. “What _exactly_ was the bet?”

Harry winced slightly, not looking like he wanted to answer, but he did. “Fred and George bet me that I couldn’t get you to finally make a move on me before the day was over.”

“You did _all_ of this to deliberately mislead me? I thought you were supposed to be a noble Gryffindor!” This was not how things were supposed to go. He was supposed to seduce Harry, not the other way around.

“No, I am. I mean, yes.” Harry paused and took a deep breath before continuing. “Yeah, I kind of misled you today, but Fred and George said you fancied me and refused to do anything about it. They knew I fancied you, too, but I didn’t really believe that you did. Not at first.”

“If you believed I fancied you, then why didn’t you just say something to me?”

“Because I needed you to make the first move.” He bit his lip, eyeing Draco nervously before he admitted, “I didn’t want you to be scared of me.”

“I’m not scared of you!” Draco denied hotly.

“I know!” Harry said quickly, in an attempt to calm him. “You’re not scared of me, _Harry_ , but I think you are a little scared of the Chosen One. I am, too.”

Draco blinked, wishing Harry would quit confusing matters.

“The Chosen One is some mythological hero,” Harry said softly, moving closer and rubbing his thumb over the Dark Mark on Draco’s arm. Draco pulled his arm away defensively, but thought he understood now what Harry was trying to explain.

“The Chosen One is perfect and wonderful and hates Death Eaters on general principle. The Chosen One can do no wrong and certainly couldn’t be seen with a former Death Eater because it might ruin his heroic reputation.”

Harry shifted to lay his head in Draco’s lap, deliberately making himself vulnerable as he looked up and met Draco’s eyes. “I’m not that perfect person, Draco. I can’t be and I don’t _want_ to be.”

He gently touched Draco’s arm again. “You’re not perfect either, and I can accept that. I like who you are anyway.”

“I hope you meant that as a compliment,” Draco said dryly, but he did understand what Harry had intended.

“Um, yeah. That probably didn’t come out that well,” Harry admitted, offering Draco a sheepish smile.

“You tricked me.”

“Yes, but it’s not like you don’t get anything out of it.”

That was true enough, but Draco was still feeling a bit put out at being deceived. He was supposed to be the Slytherin, not Harry.

“Aren’t you even going to ask what you win?” The way Harry was smiling mischievously left Draco suspicious.

“What’d I win?”

“Well, you know if I lost, I had to go around naked for a week.”

Draco’s face twisted into a disgusted grimace. “Don’t tell me they had the same terms?”

“No,” Harry said, his own face twisting at that thought. “No, if they lost, they had to buy you a new set of robes.”

“Robes? For _me_?”

“Uh huh,” Harry said, absently tracing a pattern over Draco’s abdomen. “Whatever style and fabric you want. They’re not allowed to choose.”

Draco wasn’t feeling put out any longer. In fact, he was feeling an odd ache in his chest and had to clear his throat before he could speak. “So, what did you win?”

Harry pressed a kiss where his fingertips had been tracing before looking up at Draco through his lashes. “You.”

~~Finite~~


End file.
